I grin at Trey. “You don’t think my saying ‘knob knockers’ is polar?” I ask, hearing Jax and Wayra crack up.
“No, I don’t,” Trey replies, looking sourly at Wayra, who suddenly finds the ceiling interesting. “I think you’ll fit in better if you refrain from using those kinds of words.”
“Who said I want to fit in—or that I even can fit in?”
“Why wouldn’t you fit in?” Both Jax and Wayra look down because they know I won’t fit in.
“Because I’m a realist and this is my life you’re playing with, Cavar,” I reply. “You think you’re delivering me home. I disagree.”
“You can fit in, you just have to try,” Trey insists.
“How do you propose I do that? Are you going to teach me etiquette?” I laugh.
“Yes. Why not?” he responds, staring back at me like he has just agreed to a dare.
Smiling at him, I ask, “What makes you think I’m uncouth?”
“I didn’t accuse you of being uncouth, just easily influenced by others.” He glares at Wayra, who looks unrepentant.
“Okay, this should kill an hour—uh a part,” I amend. “Where would you like to begin teaching me to be a proper Rafe citizen?”
“Let’s start with salutations,” he says, standing up and offering me his hand to help me up. Ignoring it, I rise on my own, facing him. “How would you greet someone?”
“Depends. Are you a friend, an acquaintance, a business associate, a teacher, a family member, or a boyfriend?” I ask.
“A boyfriend,” Wayra says.
Trey scowls at him, and then he turns to me and answers, “In a formal situation.”
I hold out my hand to him. When he doesn’t take it, I take his hand in mine, shaking it firmly, saying, “Hello, Trey, it’s very nice to meet you.”
Jax mimics me, taking Wayra’s hand and saying, “Wayra, it’s very nice to meet you.”
Wayra pushes Jax away, saying, “Get off.” Then he shivers, like his skin is crawling.
“What’s wrong?”
“He touched me,” Wayra says, frowning.
“So?”
“So, he’s going to get hurt if he does it again,” Wayra replies and Jax grins.
“You don’t shake hands?”
“No,” Trey says. “Males rarely touch each other.”
“Really?”
“And females rarely touch males that they don’t know or that aren’t a part of their family,” he adds, making me feel awkward all of a sudden. I’ve been holding his hand all day, I think, feeling stupid.
“Okay, so touching is bad. What do I do?” I ask, letting go of his hand.
“If we are peers, then you incline your head, like a nod, but pause for a moment before you lift your head,” he demonstrates.
I try to suppress a giggle, mimicking him. He sees it and grins, asking, “What?”
“It’s just the opposite of the hood greeting. In the hood, you lift your chin up and say, ‘sup,’” I explain. “Do I say anything when I incline my head?”
“‘Greetings,’ is standard. If you know my name, you may say it.”
“Ah, just like Kyon, but he touched me,” I murmur. Trey frowns at my words. “How do you greet someone who’s not a peer?”
With his eyebrows still together, he answers, “If you’re greeting royalty, then you drop to one knee and incline your head, bringing your right arm up to your shoulder.” He demonstrates, looking extremely elegant and poised.
I follow his lead, asking, “How do I know the difference between a peer and…urr…royalty?” I try to match the refined sweep of his arm with mine.
“You should be introduced to royalty. You will not greet them unless you’re introduced,” he explains as we both stand again.
“Ah ha—snobs. So, you’re royalty, right?” I ask, and his eyes go wide, not understanding how I know this about him. “Victus is the one to inherit, but you’re minor royalty—no one seeks your favor,” I repeat almost verbatim what he’d said in the limousine.
“You were listening to us…in the car,” he states, frowning.
“I’m always listening—chameleon, remember?” Sinking to my knee again, I incline my head, while bringing my hand up to my shoulder, saying, “Greetings, Trey Allairis.”
“How do you know my last name?” Trey grasps my upper arm and pulls me to my feet.
“Kyon mentioned it,” I reply, looking at his hand on my arm. “Uhh, no touching. It’s impolite,” I scold him prudishly. “Now, how would you greet an Alameeda priestess? Would you take a knee for her?”
“You mean, how would I greet a delegation from Alameeda?” he corrects me. “She would be accompanied by an entourage and I would kneel. Victus would not. He would incline his head. But I wouldn’t kneel if I was a Cavar in the capacity of protection.”
“Interesting.”
“You’re a Rafe citizen, Kricket. Your affiliation with the Alameeda will only make you seem less like one of us,” he warns.
“I’m both. To deny my mother would be wrong.”
“There may be some who will want to see you crawl because of your heritage.”
“I’m stone, remember?” I ask, quirking my brow. “I can’t be afraid to fail, or I’ll be stuck wherever you leave me. I can’t hide what I am and there’s always a way around those people—or through them. Don’t worry about what I’ll do next. You won’t be there to see it.”
“She’s got you there, Trey,” Jax says. He stands up. “You’ll be at the swanks with the blushers. I need you to get me into one.”
Trey is silent for a moment, not taking his eyes from mine. Then he says, “I don’t know, Jax…I’ll be responsible for you, if I get you in. Do you even know how to comport yourself at a swank?”
“Yes,” Jax replies. He goes down on one knee before me. Rising up, he asks, “Would you care to comport with me?” He stands at my side holding his arm out in front of him with his other arm behind his back.
In my most arrogant tone, I say, “Indeed.”
Jax raises his chin. “You may lay your hand on my arm and I will guide you to the floor.”
“The floor? Like the dance floor?” I ask, laying my hand on his arm.
“Mmm,” he agrees with an arrogant nod, looking straight ahead.
“How does one dance on Ethar?” I ask, extremely curious as he leads me a few steps away from the fire. “Is there touching involved?”
“Some.”
I bring my fingers to my lips. “Scandalous,” I reply. I drop my hand. “Are you going to break it down for me?”
Jax looks a little less arrogant. “Well, I could use some instruction, too. Trey, can you demonstrate?” he asks.
“But, you were comporting so well,” Trey replies sarcastically.
“Oh, you gotta show us your moves, Trey,” I say.
“Why must I?”
“Because…you’ll ruin my first kidnapping if you don’t,” I reply, quirking my eyebrow challengingly. “How will I be able to compare it to any future abduction if you don’t at least attempt to show me how you dance?”